


only fools

by pneumatics



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Please Forgive me, set after book 2 non canon compliant, this is just a buttload of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 18:55:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8256730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pneumatics/pseuds/pneumatics
Summary: "You were such a pretty boy"It had been a private phrase but Damen's ears were tuned. The implications didn't hit him until now - and he felt like a slave again.





	

Damen was stronger than the three men who held him. This he knew, but his resistance was purposefully weak.

"I need to see him," he said, "Laurent. I need to." A guard - Jord - looked at him almost pitifully.

  
"You know I can't let you," he said, his voice quiet. Damen turned a desperate eye to the locked door in front of him.

  
"I want to make it right," he looked at Jord, "as much as I can. You have to understand." And Jord did. It had been mere moments, it seemed, since Aimeric's betrayal, and the thought left Jord white faced.

  
"I _can't_ ," he stressed, though he loosened his hold slightly. Damen shifted back and forth.

  
"I need to see him," he insisted. "Laurent, let me in!" He called at the closed room.  
Jord pulled on his arm.

  
"Damen -" the lock turned and the door swung open slightly to reveal a sliver of light.

  
"Let him in," a thin voice floated out. "Alone." Jord sighed, and let go of Damen, who flexed his arm a few times to regain the feeling. Damen called on the _Damianos_ inside of him - the Crown Prince - and walked inside.

  
"Thank you for meeting with me," he said, closing the door behind him. Laurent didn't move, so Damen walked to stand by the bed - the very same bed they had lain together in that morning. A wonder, how a matter of hours could bring about a lifetime of change.

  
"Damianos of Akielos" Laurent said, his voice unwavering and his eyes unforgiving.  "My slave, my lover," he twisted the word. "The Crown Prince." Damen bowed his head with a measure of humility.

  
"Yes," he said. There was no point in denying it. Laurent scoffed.

  
"You were never going to tell me."

  
"No," Damen agreed.

  
"You lied." Laurent pressed lightly, almost too relaxed for the situation at hand.

  
"Yes." Damen answered, and Laurent's eyes flashed.

  
"And you had me in bed," Laurent looked coolly down Damen's body, leaving his skin pricking - torn between a desperation to run, and one to cross the room and hold him. But he wasn't allowed that anymore. And he didn't want to run.

"Tell me, _Damen_ ," Laurent spit the name out, "is that what got you off?"

  
"Is what?" Damen asked, forcing his eyes up to meet Laurent's gaze. Light crept through the curtain and framed Laurent's hair like a halo.

  
"Fucking the brother of the man you murdered." Though the words were spoken carefully, Damen saw the way the breath left Laurent's body. The need to explain gripped him like a vise.

  
"It - Laurent -" Damen said, only to be interrupted.

  
"It would do you well to address me accordingly." Laurent's calm visage did nothing to betray him, but Damen knew him well enough to see past it.

  
"Your Highness."

  
"Better," Laurent regarded him with an air of disdain. Damen was having trouble recalling that only hours before, Laurent lay almost pliant under his arms. Made far more pleasurable noises than those expelled from his lips now.

  
"You've punished me worse than death already," Damen watched how a slight crease appeared by Laurent's mouth.

  
"Do tell," Laurent said, walking over to come within arms length of him. "Tell me, what more have I done to you, than you to me - worse than death?" Damen breathed in, something he had not meant to do so closely to Laurent. And as his scent pervaded his senses, he made a decision.

  
"It does not do well for a King to be in love with his former captor," Damen answered honestly, and it was as if the sands of time had stopped in that moment. "It's -" Laurent released a strangled sound, and took an unconscious step back.

  
"Don't -" he choked, and even in bed, Laurent was more composed than he was now. "You don't get to say that."

  
"I know," Damen continued, "but dead men must speak before their demise." The sentiment caused a flit of astonishment to cross Laurent's face fleetingly.

  
"You think yourself dead?" Damen lifted his chin - he knew Laurent wouldn't kill him - he just wanted to hear it himself.

  
"I think myself untrusted," he supplied. Laurent's face flushed angrily.

  
"I knew who you were," he snapped, "I knew and I still let you in." It was Damien's turn to recoil, to remember the way Laurent lay tense under him - and then surrendered himself consciously. It made him sick - the turn of phrase, of being  _let in_.

  
"No - _Laurent_ ," Damen said horrified, "Why?"

  
For it wasn't the bedding of Laurent that disgusted him - it was the means at which Laurent let him. Cool, calculating Laurent, whose venom was unmatched to that of a snake's, whose guard never went down - until, maybe Damen, or -

  
Or the way he turned so readily on the bed. As if he knew how to submit. Laurent had said he wasn't a virgin, and Damen couldn't imagine a man who had fucked the Prince without a fight. He couldn't imagine someone else being with Laurent like he had been. Which left only one.

  
_"You were such a pretty boy"_

  
It had been a private phrase but Damen's ears were tuned. The implications didn't hit him until now - and he felt like a slave again.

  
"The Regent," he said, and it shouldn't have surprised him. When Auguste and the King had died, Laurent would have been thirteen - the age Nicaise strived so greatly to stay at. The age he died for.

  
"My uncle's involvement has nothing to do with it. You were means to an end." But that was a lie, and they both knew it. The Regent had everything to do with it, down to the reason Damen had first arrived in Vere bound and blindfolded.

  
"It wasn't a fuck," Damen said, desperation tinging his tone. "It was - I - made _love_ ." Saying it out loud changed everything. Damen had pulled his last string trying to bridge the ever-growing gap between them. "I'm not your uncle." A hand swept out and something glass lay shattered on the floor. "And I'm sorry about Auguste."

  
Laurent's chest heaved up and down, his hair plastered to his forehead with a sheen of sweat.  
"Get out," he hissed. Damen lifted his arm slightly, but Laurent stepped back again. "How dare you speak his name." The action might have once satisfied Damen, but seeing Laurent back away from him opened a pit in his stomach.

  
"Okay," he said softly, apologetically, "Laurent, I -"

  
" _Please_ ," Laurent said, and that was the breaking point. Laurent against his wall and Damen staring at his flushed form. "Don't." Damen stiffened, only to restrain himself from crossing the room and doing something regretful, like kissing him until he saw fit to ream him out. Anything but this complete lack of strength he saw in front of him.

  
"Laurent," he said again - the word resting on the tip of his tongue like a prayer - and the blond simply closed his eyes.

  
"You've seen me," he said, "now leave." Damen swallowed the unfamiliar lump in his throat, and nodded, leaving the room silently.

  
“Thank you,” he echoed. Laurent was silent. Damen closed the door.

  
He forced himself not to look back.

**Author's Note:**

> the title is taken from 'fools' by troye sivan
> 
> okay listen i totally scribbled this down after ending the second book, so here you have it
> 
> hope you enjoy


End file.
